“It’s too late, Reeve.” I can’t fight the tears that sting my eyes and inevitably fall down my face. Shaking my head, I tell him I’m sorry without saying it, no longer able to utter another word.
“Please let me fix this. Don’t let go of us.” His voice cracks, his eyes misty for the first time.
I dig my nails into my palm while holding my breath in an attempt to suppress my sobs. With strength I didn’t know I possessed, I move one foot in front of the other, my hands holding onto the railing for dear life.
“You let go first, Reeve. I’m sick of holding on.”
Not looking back at him, alone and in the dark street, I hurriedly enter my building and bolt to my flat door. Upon opening it, I find Cora watching a movie on the couch, Lara asleep in Cora’s lap. One look at my face and I know Cora understands I’ve seen Reeve. Her gaze darts to another brown paper package on the bench, but I resist going to it.
For the first time since I’ve met her, sympathy crosses her features, her smile turning down. I give her a watery one in return, not able to make small talk before I disappear to my room, where I bury my head in a pillow as I let out all the tears I have in me. Who knew I’d still have so many left to cry?
Waking up the next morning is hard, my body sore and dehydrated. My eyes burn and painful memories of last night flash through my mind. I know Reeve, and he isn’t going to give up on this, so it’s up to me to make him see it. This back and forth between us will only end in hurt. It’s better to end it now anyway, a clean break.
Knowing I need to face him again, I send him a quick text asking to meet at The Blue Café in Notting Hill. I’ll visit Lottie afterward to talk all things baby. His reply is almost instant, and although I know today will hurt, it has to be the right choice in the long run. We’re better off as friends; it was wrong of me to push for more. And when I see him today, I’ll tell him all of that. Explain how I’ve let go of my anger and want things to return to how they used to be.
I put on a little lipstick, taking extra time to ensure I look decent. Even though I don’t give a shit sometimes about my appearance, I do believe that maybe with a coat of makeup as my armor, I’ll have a little more confidence to get through today.
As I exit my bedroom, my brown heeled boots chime out against my floor. I quickly make some toast, knowing I need sustenance to power on, yet not having the time to sit down and enjoy it, I half stuff the thing into my mouth as I walk out the door, making sure to avoid the newest gift from him. Each step to the Tube feels like a walk to the gallows, the nausea in my gut heightening as I continuously get closer to seeing Reeve.
Thirty minutes later I’m standing out front of The Blue Café, spotting Reeve in the corner, his black coat draped over his chair as he fiddles with his hands. This is unusual for him; a nervous Reeve is a Reeve I’m unfamiliar with. He’s usually exuding confidence and mystery. But today, his emotions are written across his face. As if sensing my presence, his head shoots up, gaze colliding with my own.
His lips tilt ever so slightly into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I don’t bother to try to fake one back. Taking a deep breath, I go to open the door, thankful for the minimal customers in the shop.
I count the checkered tiles on the ground as I walk closer to him, then finally look up as I land in front of him. I spot his shot of espresso, emptied, and a piping-hot pot of tea on my side. Still not speaking, I slide into the chair facing him, biting down on the inside of my cheek to keep myself composed.
Reeve is the one to break the silence.
“I’m glad you messaged,” he finally says, voice croaky. Now in front of him, I see the deep lines of worry on his face, along with the dark circles under his eyes. One would think a month away would give someone clarity and peace, not sleeplessness and unease.
“We have a lot to talk about,” I reply, my voice surprising me with how even it comes out.
He nods, clearly waiting for me to continue.
“Last night, it was a lot for me, Reeve. I wasn’t expecting to see you there. I needed time to compose myself, gather my thoughts.”
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to ambush you.”
“I know.”
His hands wring together, but he pulls them into his lap quickly. My vision darts to the teapot, where plumes of steam drift upward.
“I think I need to start,” he says, his voice suddenly firm. I look up, saying nothing, his cue to continue.
“Leaving you last month was wrong, Em. It was one of my biggest regrets.”
My teeth clench and my throat feels thick, but I keep it together.
“It’s no secret that my family life is a mess. I love my mum, but she isn’t exactly the world’s best caretaker, so it was sort of always just me. Then you and Ali came along, Owen too, and I had a new family.”
He exhales, his gaze connecting with my own.
“Ever since you were little, I knew you were special, Emilia. You looked at me with this admiration, even when we were children, admiration I didn’t deserve. And then when you grew up and things started changing between us, I knew staying far away from you would be in everyone’s best interest, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You’d become this constant, and even though I knew it was a risk, I was willing to do it to stay your friend, despite wanting more.”
“But you never went there because of Ali?” I ask, interrupting him.
“I won’t lie, Ali was a huge part of it. His friendship has gotten me through some of the harder times in my life, but I’d be lying if I placed the entire reason on him. The other part was I just didn’t feel like I was good enough for you, like anyone was good enough for you. I feared if we got together, I wouldn’t deserve you, that I’d somehow fuck it up.”
I don’t reply that he did indeed fuck it up, but it wasn’t due to him not deserving me, it was due to him fucking off to America and leaving me alone.
“When my dad came back into the picture, I started spiraling. I found out my mum kept all that from me, and you were the only one I wanted to turn to. So eventually, I let myself. I figured why deny what we both want? And it was great between us, Em. Those months we had together were so great.”
I break eye contact with him. “So what went wrong, Reeve?”
“Come early January my dad was pushing to meet me, and we started talking on the phone. I didn’t tell you because I could see you were leaning more toward my mum’s side, and I couldn’t accept what she’d done. So I stepped back, hoping it would give me some clarity, but all it did was hurt you. Then came Evie’s birthday, and I knew, I just knew you missed it because of me. My actions had hurt you, but you wouldn’t call me out on it. Instead of scolding me, you told me you loved me, and it was too much. Those initial fears of hurting you came rushing back, and I thought the only way to save you was by taking some time, collecting my thoughts.” He shakes his head. “But look how well that turned out.”
“What I don’t get is your dad. I mean, you went from wanting nothing to do with him to going on a month-long adventure. What am I missing? The Reeve I know would never just drop everything and leave.”
“Exactly,” he replies, only furthering my confusion. “I’ve always been practical, always had a steady job where I could rise in the ranks, always had savings, a good friend group. My life involved zero risks, and I think a part of me just thought it was now or never. I felt overwhelmed with you, with my mom, and then here came this man who claimed to be my father, offering to let me escape it all. My life hasn’t ever been overly exciting; it’s been predicable and secure. Then you burst in and it was like color exploded over every aspect of my life, and for the first time, it was something I couldn’t control. I can’t tell you why I left. I wish there was some specific reason. Maybe I thought it would give me clarity.”